


Road to Nowhere

by Princess of Geeks (Princess)



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Time, M/M, Unhappy Ending, canon character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-16
Updated: 2010-03-16
Packaged: 2017-10-08 00:51:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/71017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Princess/pseuds/Princess%20of%20Geeks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A "what if" AU that branches off from the aftermath of the Stargate movie. With Sam's help, Jack and Daniel search for Sha're under very altered circumstances.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Road to Nowhere

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Paian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paian/gifts).



> Written for the 2006 Darkfic Challenge on LiveJournal.
> 
> Extraordinary beta help from paian, jane davitt, green grrl and vshendria, who all went way beyond the call of duty. This story ate my lunch, and not in the good way. Jane deserves a co-author credit; she actually made me a list of scenes that needed to be in the story.

_"Well, we know where we're going  
But we don't know where we've been  
And we know what we're knowing  
But we can't say what we've seen"_

\-- "Road to Nowhere," from _Little Creatures_, by Talking Heads

****

"Procrastinating again, Dr. Carter?"

Sam jumped, her train of thought broken. She turned away from her computer screen in her little office, the afterimage of the compelling and beautiful sine curve she had been studying still before her eyes, a fading glowworm that curved around the features of Andrew Siler. He leaned against the door that led to the big conference room, smiling fondly. Sam rubbed her eyes.

"Not really. Well, yes, really, but..." She waved a hand at the paperwork on her desk. She'd stayed late to take another crack at the third iteration of their budget, but she could take a science break, couldn't she? Siler stepped closer, looking at her screen, his forehead wrinkled in sympathy.

"What've you got here?"

"The simulation of the energy states the gate would go through before the first chevron locks."

"Ah." Siler crossed his arms, contemplating the screen. He was just as susceptible as she was to the lure of this kind of puzzle.

"The shape of the equation reminds me of something. I just can't quite..."

"Yeah, this is a lot more fun than crunching numbers for Vogler," Siler said absently.

"Yeah, well, I either need to get back to that or pack it in for tonight, because this isn't going to get us anywhere if we can't justify what we're doing a little more thoroughly."

"It's like a horsetail. You're right; it does remind me of something." Sam smiled at Siler and stood up. She needed more tea if she were going to tackle either the budget or tracing the physics problem to its source. She stretched, and stepped around her desk to get to the carafe. There would be a few people still cleaning up in the commissary. She hoped. Or as a last resort she could get water out of the lavatory sink down the hall and heat it up in the microwave. As she reached for the carafe, it started to rattle on its plastic tray. She turned, meeting Siler's eyes, puzzled.

"What in the hell," he said. They both turned, looking out through the open door, through the conference room. Sam hurried through the big darkened room to the observation window.

The gate was... the gate was spinning. The math problem with which she and the engineer had diverted themselves was, impossibly, displaying itself in real time. Sam watched, entranced, as something she had only seen in videos and simulations ... happened. The inner ring spun, first counterclockwise, then clockwise, the chevrons lighting up, counting down the strange constellated shapes that haunted her dreams. The stargate was forming, on its own, after all the long silent months, the Abydos wormhole.

And then, the billowing, fluid blast of the event horizon, its shimmer bathing the gateroom, the conference room, and their faces, in blue light. The wormhole stabilized, and Sam came to herself. Her heart was pounding. She turned to Siler.

"We should call someone," he stammered. "We should..."

Sam turned and ran, stumbling back through the conference room, clattering down the stairs, so stunned she could barely keep her feet. Abydos was gone, yet the gate had come to life.

She was vaguely aware of Siler at her elbow as she burst through the big doorway and approached the metal ramp. She hesitated, her old training kicking in. If a new wormhole was activating, where, indeed, was it coming from? There might be danger; anyone and anything might come through that gate now. They should get to the phone. They should call security, call the soldiers who guarded the entrance to the mountain.

A person staggered through the event horizon and grabbed the railing for balance. One person. One man? Alone, apparently unarmed, wearing draping robes that looked nomadic, or monkish. Sam frowned.

The man looked around. He was wearing glasses. He pushed his hair off his forehead and came toward them, hands outstretched as if to show he was no threat. Sam knew this man, as different from his photos as he appeared now -- in the strange clothes, haggard, dirty, distraught. She knew who he was, what he'd done in this very place, and she knew his name. He was supposed to be dead, but he was alive. He came closer, frowning, searching her face, searching Siler's.

"I know you'll find this hard to believe, but I'm Daniel Jackson. Is Colonel Jack O'Neill still here? I need to see Jack O'Neill."

 

****

Brian Vogler paced. "This changes everything, you know," he said, stopping near her desk, arms folded.

"I know," Sam said quietly. She looked through the window of her office into the conference room, at their uninvited guest, who had seemed to collapse in on himself and was sitting still, staring at the table top as if in shock, his empty water glass next to his untouched cheese and crackers. He was probably in shock, Sam thought. They should probably get him some medical attention.

Siler knocked once on the jamb of the hallway door, startling them both.

"Well?" Vogler demanded.

"I talked to the duty officer upstairs at NORAD, and they weren't quite sure who we're supposed to liaison with, to be honest, but they're calling Washington. At this hour I don't know how fast they can get someone here, but--"

"Thank you, Andrew. Keep trying."

"Okay." Siler held Sam's troubled gaze for a moment, and left again.

Sam frowned and turned to Vogler. "What have we got to lose by going ahead and calling in O'Neill, like Dr. Jackson wants? If you're worried about what Dr. Jackson might tell him we could, I don't know, listen in somehow."

"Are you crazy? No." Vogler was pacing. Jackson's arrival had exploded the orderly scientific project he was in charge of. Vogler didn't do well with the unexpected. "We don't have permission to bring O'Neill back in here. He was out of the program long ago. He's got nothing to do with this now."

"I know, but are you getting the impression that if we just wait a while, Dr. Jackson will change his mind and decide to talk to us after all?" Brian stared at her. She didn't dare push him; his temper could easily turn on her. Backpedaling, she tried another tack. "We know where he came from, because we know where he went. He came from Abydos." This could be a logical fallacy, but it was actually quite probable. "So, that means there are people left on Abydos who know the Earth address, who know how to dial the gate. He didn't weave those robes himself, right? So the gate there wasn't destroyed after all!"

"Well, yes." She could see him wavering. She knew him, knew his desire to continue with their science as usual was warring with his desire to make some kind of breakthrough; make the splash that would make him and the consortium famous.

"I know this is all very weird, it blows all our notions of what's going on out there, but I'm in favor of finding out what Dr. Jackson knows, now, and on his terms. Because Brian! This is huge! We should call O'Neill now. It might be our only chance to find out what's going on. You know that this might very well make the Air Force take notice of us again."

Vogler's face cleared. She could hear him thinking, weighing the new risks, from all sides, to everything they were trying to do. "Okay. Let Jackson call him," Vogler said. "We'll eavesdrop." His decision made, he stalked out, leaving her in her office with the door open.

She took a deep breath and went back out into the conference room. Siler was back, and he was waiting patiently, chatting with Jackson. He'd apparently introduced himself, and was now fending off Jackson's questions about the program, what had been going on here since Jackson had last been on Earth.

"Drew, could you please go up to the commissary and get our guest something to eat and drink? I imagine some coffee would be at the top of his wish list," and she turned to Jackson and smiled. The look on his face was indescribable.

"How did you know I was wishing for a cup of coffee?"

"Well, we do tell stories about you around here."

He frowned, and stared at her, as if assessing her, really seeing her for the first time. He was tired, but it was still very intense.

"Look, we really are wasting a lot of time here. Won't you bring Jack O'Neill? He had complete clearance for the program. And I'd like to know, who are you?"

"I'm working for a scientific consortium, mostly universities. After your mission apparently eliminated any threat by, we thought, eliminating the enemy on the planet, the military handed the program off to us. We are charged with investigating the technology that went into the gate and learning all we can from it."

"And you work for him. For Brian Vogler."

"Yes." She tried to keep her face neutral, but she must have winced a little, because he pounced.

"And he's the greatest boss in the history of bosses."

She stared at him, trying to give him nothing. Nothing of the stupidity of working with someone who couldn't decide to belittle you for a geek, flirt with you for a blonde or envy you for your science. Because Brian was not the point. The work was the point. Daniel waited, and then when she didn't take the bait he asked, "But who are you, personally, is what I meant?"

"I'm their astrophysics expert. I used to be in the Air Force, but when this came along... Well. It was compelling. But you already know about leaving it all behind to work on the stargate, Dr. Jackson."

She was, of course, dying to talk to this man about the science, about the gate, about the 1994 research, about thought processes that had led him to figure out the constellation glyphs, about the Abydos gate, now that she knew it still existed. But this was not about her.

"Yes, yes, I do," he said, resignedly, looking down.

"Look. Brian has authorized us to go ahead and let you call Colonel O'Neill. Do you know where to find him?"

Daniel looked up, relief and puzzlement warring on his face.

"You don't?"

"Well, no. But, you know, there's always the internet."

They smiled at each other.

****

Unbelievably, Jack O'Neill had retired from the Air Force and was still living in Colorado Springs. She copied the local number from the screen to a pad on her desk, turned it toward Daniel and stood up, offering him her chair.

"You know this is not a secure line, and that we're probably going to be recording whatever you say." She had to say it, but seeing his eagerness, she felt apologetic.

"Right, right." She watched, sitting on the edge of the desk. Daniel was biting his lip as he dialed. He was very tense. Then he jumped, and she guessed O'Neill had answered.

"Jack? It's Daniel Jackson."

He closed his eyes, and she would have given a lot to know what the man on the other end of the line was saying. She watched, shameless in her curiosity.

"I know. I know. But listen -- I only came back because I need your help again. Desperately, in fact." Sam watched, stunned, because Daniel's eyes filled with tears. "It's Sha're. She's -- there was a canopic jar, back there at -- home.... Right, a canopic jar. Something the ancient Egyptians usually used to store the vital organs of their honored dead? Viscera, heart, brain, you know? Well, some, some new soldiers -- you remember -- came, there was a confrontation, and this time there was... there was..." Sam frowned, watching him battle on several fronts. For words, for the power to utter them. He had closed his eyes again, and was listening to O'Neill.

"Yes. She's in trouble, Jack. Can you...?"

"Sam."

She turned, surprised by the interruption. It was Brian, but behind him were three armed guards.

"Dr. Jackson," he continued. Daniel watched, uncomprehending, the phone held a little away from his ear.

One of the guards spoke up. "I'm sorry, Dr. Jackson. You'll have to come with us. Immediately." The guard stepped to him, took the phone out of his unresisting hand, and hung it up. Daniel's eyes slid to Sam's, to Brian.

The guards took him away.

Sam stared, wide eyed, at her boss. "What in the hell is going on here?"

Brian looked sheepish, defeated and guilty, all at the same time. "You were right. The Air Force is back in charge. As of now."

"And what are they planning to do with him?"

Brian stared, silent.

****

She stood there, clutching the dinner tray, eye to eye with the security guard. She recognized him from upstairs; he was green. Green enough, she hoped.

"You're delivering dinner, Dr. Carter?"

"Yeah, well. New sheriff in town, things change, you know?"

He looked incredulous, but he turned and swiped his card in the lock and the door opened. She wondered how long she'd have. She hoped it would be long enough to find out what the fuck was going on.

She bit down on either a yelp of anguish or a string of curse words, she couldn't be sure which, when Daniel Jackson rolled quickly from lying on his bunk to a sitting position. One eye was black and swollen, and he was stiff along his right side, favoring one arm.

"Oh good," he said. "Dinner."

She stared at him, and then put the tray she'd brought on the table. She sat beside him on the bunk.

"I didn't realize they'd go this far," she said.

"Yeah, well."

She touched his knee. When he met her eyes, wincing, she mouthed words without speaking them.

_Jack O'Neill._

He raised his eyebrows.

She tapped her chest, and then jerked her head toward the door.

"Really?" He said out loud.

"This is wrong," she said, indicating his injured state with a quick wave of her hand.

He just stared at her.

"Eat," she said. "Hopefully you'll be out of here soon."

She turned her back and left.

****

She was not prepared, even though she'd scouted the databases and found his official photos, for the punch to the gut of the man in person. She'd tapped, unannounced, on his patio door just after sunset. She noticed that he, unobtrusively, had a gun in his hand, but he stared at her for a moment through the glass, eyes narrowed, and let her in.

Tall, with brown hair going silver at the temples, chiseled features, deep brown eyes -- this she'd expected. But there was a banked power, a kind of physical threat in this man, that she'd not expected. Before he said a word, she felt it. It made a thrill crawl up her legs. It was ticklish and dangerous. She licked her lips. He was still staring her down, giving her a dead eye. She stared back.

"You don't know me," she said. "My name is Samantha Carter, and I've come about the stargate."

"Stargate?"

"You can play dumb if you want to, colonel, but I'm here because of Daniel Jackson and because of our former employer, those guys in blue suits who used to be the good guys."

His eyes widened. Okay. Good.

"Now, Daniel is insisting you're the only one he'll talk to, and let's just say that's not going over very well."

"Who are you?"

"I work for the program. But the Air Force has taken over again and their tactics are... They've put Dr. Jackson in a cell at the base and roughed him up."

She could see the wheels turning as he thought this over.

"So they don't know you're here," he concluded. Those brown eyes flicked up and down, assessing, dismissing. That stung. But it was not important, what he thought of her. This was it. Was she really willing to do this? She drew a deep breath. "I can get you back into the mountain. Because Daniel has asked me to."

A slow smile crept across his face.

"Got to you, too, huh?"

She let that pass. He had no idea what he was walking into, but if what Daniel had told her about this man was true, he would deal. When he had to. "We don't have much time."

****

O'Neill paused just for a moment, in his yard, and looked over his shoulder at his house for a moment. Then he settled his backpack a little more comfortably and followed her into the darkness, through the hole she'd found in the corner of the fence, and through the alley to where she'd left her car.

Sam had waited in silence as he'd quickly gathered a few personal items, including a handgun and two extra clips; she saw him get them out of a locked cabinet. He'd disappeared for a few minutes and she'd heard footsteps on the roof. He came back into the house cradling a big telescope, which he settled on the floor in a corner of the dining room along with its tripod. He'd rummaged in the kitchen, and he'd also taken out the garbage. He'd locked up the house, and put the keys in the downspout next to the patio doors.

As he followed her through the neighborhood, he didn't say a word. But she was sure, after all that and after his one farewell glance, that he knew a whole hell of a lot more than he was going to tell her, and that he was fully prepared to never set foot in this place again. It made her stomach clench, but she just kept walking, and then driving, around the mountain, up the neglected and bumpy fire road, to the chimney that she knew from her recent hacking was furthest from the route of the sentries.

****

She had to give it one more try.

"I could come with you."

Daniel just looked down, the gate already settling from billowing into flat.

O'Neill shook his head. "I don't know what's going to be worse. What you're left with here, or what we're walking into." Their eyes met for a moment, and she saw only reluctance and pain in his. "Besides. Someone's got to leave a light on for us, right? When we bring her back."

He turned then, and plunged into the flat blue surface, and Daniel was right behind him. Neither of them looked back. But she knew then that O'Neill really didn't believe a word he'd said.

She stood there a minute, and then she walked back up the echoing stairs and pushed the keys that killed the wormhole, and sat there, waiting. She looked at the grey, silent gate until the SF's came to find her.

****

The event horizon flashed away to nothingness behind them, and Jack looked around, then holstered his pistol. Jack remembered the place well -- the columns, the distant ceiling, the heavy cool air, damp and still. Daniel was already dashing down the steps and heading for the device the Abydonians used to punch in the symbols to create a wormhole.

"Hey, wait a minute," Jack called, following more slowly. "What are you doing?"

"Going to the planet where Sha're, where, that goa'uld, went. We've wasted too much time already, dithering around back on Earth." Daniel had punched the big buttons for three symbols; Jack glanced over his shoulder at the glowing V-shaped notches on the gate. Its ring was spinning. Too weird. He looked back at his companion.

"And from the look of you, you don't seem to have slept or eaten during all that dithering; probably not since you left Abydos. To say nothing of the tender care of the SFs." He arrived beside Daniel and grabbed his hand before he could punch another button. "Six hours. Sleep, eat, then we go."

Daniel glared at him and hissed, "What part of 'A goa'uld has invaded my wife's body and taken her away' didn't you understand?" He jerked his hand away. Jack grabbed his shoulder and turned him by force, so that they were face to face.

"What part of, 'We'll have a fight on our hands when we get to that planet, likely as not, and I'm not going into it with you half asleep and dead on your feet and pretending to cover my back' did YOU not get!" he roared. Daniel glared, speechless for once, yet equally full of rage. But that was okay. Jack knew it wasn't directed at him. "We'll stay here and take a rest. We won't go to the city, or the camp. We don't want to get your friends into any more trouble if the goa'uld or those Jaffa come back through here. They can't tell what they don't know." Daniel's face changed, and he looked reluctant, but Jack knew he had won. It was common sense, after all. "Six hours. Rest. Eat. Then we go. Then we go get her back."

Daniel shook Jack's hand off his shoulder and turned, pulling out his flashlight and leading the way to the left, down a hall, then down a broken flight of stairs, into the part of the pyramid's base that extended underground. Jack glanced around as he walked, matching Daniel's brisk pace without effort.

Daniel said, "I can hide us, from everyone. Hardly anybody but Sha're and Ska'ara and I ever wanted to come and poke around down here."

_Until they came,_ he didn't say. But Jack heard it.

Daniel walked until he found a hidden corner, a small room with two exits that Jack judged was defensible in a pinch. Daniel tugged off his pack, yanked out and unfolded a groundcloth, and threw himself down on it. He pulled his pack close, and dug out a powerbar. He rolled to his back, unwrapped it and began to eat with his eyes closed. He pulled his glasses off one-handed, folded them, and stowed them in his pocket, still chewing. Losing the glasses made him look even younger and more vulnerable.

Jack shook his head. Once Daniel made up his mind, he was nothing if not focused. Rather more slowly, Jack found himself some food and water and lay down beside Daniel, his pistol on his chest with the safety on, his head on his own pack.

After eating, Daniel rolled away and fumbled for something else in his pack. Jack stared at the ceiling, listening, waiting. Daniel was writing something. Then he clicked off his light, and the darkness came down instantly, thick and soft and denser than deep water. Jack closed his eyes against it. There was no difference in the texture of the velvety blackness. He felt Daniel press something into his hand.

"That's the address for the planet they ... her ... went to. If something happens to me...."

Jack, by touch, put the scrap of paper in the inside pocket of his tac vest. "Nothing's going to happen to you. We're going together, and we're bringing her back."

Daniel's inhale was sharp and quick. "Jack. Even if we find her, how can we separate the parasite from her body? What if--"

"Shh. One step at a time. One step."

Daniel fell silent, and Jack was relieved. He, of course, didn't know the answer to Daniel's question, and he didn't know how to find the answer. But that didn't mean they weren't going to find Sha're. One step at a time. It was all Jack knew, at this point. All they had. One step. The next thing. The heavy silence grew between, filling the dark. Jack could almost hear Daniel thinking. He could feel Daniel's warm arm and hand next to his, close but not quite touching.

When Daniel spoke again, he whispered, as if he felt the weight of the silence, too. "It's amazing I got away from here in the first place. It's amazing Dr. Carter was willing to help us. It's amazing we're here at all."

"See? One step at a time."

"Okay. Okay."

Jack made himself relax; neck, shoulders, spine, hips. An old drill. He should sleep; he was exhausted, and he could sleep. No one knew they were here; the chance of them being disturbed was quite low, and if they could both rest, they would be going into tomorrow's hostile territory as ready as it was possible to be. He smiled, thinking of Grant, thinking of Patton, who took care of the troops, without fail -- food, rest, sleep. Took care of them until the battle actually started, anyway. His smile faded. His thoughts drifting in history, Jack dozed.

He was awakened by Daniel. Daniel was shivering next to him, though the temperature was exactly the same. Shivering against Jack's side, and flinching, hard, and whispering his wife's name, along with broken phrases in what Jack supposed was Abydonian. Jack found his flashlight, and clicked it on, but pointed it away from them. He set aside the Beretta and laid a hand on Daniel's arm. It was solid gooseflesh -- rippling bumps, rising and falling in waves. This was way beyond nightmare. This was terror. He squeezed Daniel's arm, whispered his name, urged him to wake up. And Daniel woke, eyes flying open with a start. He lay still, searching Jack's face, and when consciousness returned completely, orienting him, his eyes filled with tears. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say anything, Jack did.

"Shh," Jack said, and he ran his hand up Daniel's arm, no comfort, really, but Daniel clutched at him and Jack pulled him close. Daniel was breathless, trying to breathe, trying to wake up and shake off the dream. He was warm. His hands were strong, pinching Jack's skin through his shirt, but Jack didn't try to get away or even stop the painful clutch of Daniel's fingers. Daniel pressed against him, his breathing slowly evening out. It was awkward, but beyond that, Jack was blindsided by how it made him feel. Protective, and upset, and... He frowned, and tightened his arms, put one hand on the back of Daniel's head and urged him to tuck it under Jack's chin. Daniel came willingly closer, and slowly, his shivering subsided. He wasn't crying; Jack could feel that. He was lying there, breathing deeply, holding on tight, and Jack held him just as tightly. Jack closed his eyes.

"It's all right," he said. "It'll be all right."

He didn't know that, of course, but this was all there was, right now. All he could do, maybe all he could ever do -- lie here on this stone cold rocky floor and hold Daniel. Until their time was up, and they had to go.

He didn't expect to doze off again, but he did. He lay there with an armful of Daniel, and drifted back down into sleep.

He swam awake the next time with his arms still full. Daniel was an exhausted weight against his shoulder and side -- deeply asleep in a way that Jack had not been, because of feeling himself on watch. He'd merely napped, aware on some level of the time going by, of their surroundings, of the deep silence of stone and desert all around them. He lifted his wrist. Ten minutes until the alarm he'd set was due to go off. He pushed the button to cancel it, awkwardly bringing his wrist to his other hand, because his arm was pinned under Daniel's chest. He let his arms relax again, stretching one out on the cloth, letting one relax over Daniel's back again. So. If Daniel was sleeping, Jack would let him sleep. He had a feeling that after days of 'dithering' on Earth, a few hours one way or the other wouldn't matter much now. Daniel was heavy. One leg was thrown over Jack's, and his knee pressed against Jack's thigh.

It was daylight here. He could see, outside their refuge, a dim wash of yellow light. There must be windows from the surface, somewhere down the corridor. The light was cheering. He lay there and watched the light brighten, content to wait, content to let Daniel sleep as long as he could. After something less than an hour, Daniel stirred a little, and tightened his arm across Jack's chest and pulled in closer. Jack had to close his eyes, because now he could feel, against his thigh, that Daniel was hard. It meant nothing, just that Daniel had gotten enough sleep for his natural rhythms of morning and the ordinary sort of piss-boner, which Jack supposed he should have been grateful for, but feeling that hardness, that warmth, brought him up, too, and he was pretty sure that Daniel wouldn't appreciate that one bit. He couldn't decide what to do, so he fell back on wait and see, and it didn't hurt that wait and see let him hold on, warm and relaxed, to Daniel's body for a little while longer.

He'd never tell Daniel that he enjoyed this, had wanted this, had fantasized about this a lot in the long, slow days since he'd left Daniel here with his alien family. Because there was nothing to tell. It was just another secret now, just another doomed thing, another doomed love. These days, Jack was all about the here and now, and this particular here and now was as sweet as his memories of Sara, as sweet as thinking about the cabin, or about flying.

So he closed his eyes and tightened his arms and just breathed, waiting. The light got brighter, and Daniel didn't move. Jack could smell his sweat, and the sharp antiseptic whiff of the shampoo Daniel'd probably used in the showers back at the base on Earth.

Then, Daniel stirred against him, just a little, without moving away, and Jack could feel the push of his erection again. He let himself wonder what Daniel was wearing under those robes -- his BDU's from a year ago? Or what? He'd kept the boots, Jack had noticed. Jack continued to lie there, quietly, just feeling, breathing. He became aware that Daniel's breathing had synched up with his, and he became aware that Daniel was most likely awake now. Daniel was awake, but Daniel wasn't moving either.

Jack stroked Daniel's shoulder with his thumb. He could still feel Daniel's hard-on, now pressed against his thigh. Jack wasn't going to argue, or move, or do much of anything. Moments like this were few and far between. Jack knew better than to ruin them.

Then Jack caught his breath, blindsided again, because Daniel slowly, gently, tilted his head and nuzzled Jack's neck. Then Daniel was kissing his neck, bringing up a hand to cup Jack's cheek. His other hand, trapped between them, pushed, worming its way, struggling between solid flesh and solid rock, to find a way to grab at the soft part of Jack's waist, just above his hip bone. Jack, arousal thrumming along his thighs and groin, turned his head, answering Daniel's nuzzle with a brushing kind of kissing at Daniel's temple and cheekbone, and hooked his heel over Daniel's calf.

Surprising, yes. Unexpected, yes. Welcome, oh hell yes.

Daniel puffed out a breath and heaved himself up, onto his elbow, and caught Jack's gaze. Jack had nothing. He was volitionless. He didn't let go, though. He held on, and stared right back into those inscrutable blue eyes, and when Daniel closed them and lowered his mouth to Jack's, Jack kissed him back with everything he had.

It was fast, and hard, and to the point. Robes hauled up and pushed aside, cut off BDU's with missing fly buttons (mystery solved), Jack's newer BDU pants with all the buttons intact. It was strangely similar to the hurried encounters Jack remembered from desert tours far back in his past, except for the kissing. Because the kissing went on and on, as intense as the sensation of Daniel's callused, eager hand on his dick, strange and exciting.

Jack threw himself into the giving and receiving of pleasure, and the kissing. Oh, god, the mouth on this man. Guys didn't kiss; not like this.

At the end, they tried to be careful, pulling apart, trying to shoot all over the groundcloth and not their clothes. Jack, gasping, awash in endorphins, wasn't sure how well they'd succeeded, but Daniel, he could see through half-closed eyes, was wiping his hand and his hip on a corner of the cloth, and then plastering himself against Jack again, half turning them away from whatever wet spot there was. Jack winced as his tender skin rubbed against those coarse robes, and he held Daniel tight again and listened to their breathing for a little while.

"Jack," Daniel started.

"Do we really have to talk about this?" Jack interrupted, and he just held Daniel and nuzzled under his ear again. He felt Daniel smile.

"I guess not." He sounded tentative.

Jack pulled him close, pressed his lips to that spot under Daniel's ear, hidden under the long thick hair. He cupped the curve of Daniel's skull under his hand, and told himself firmly that there was no point in thinking about how it was very likely that this was the first and last time this would ever happen.

"One step at a time," he repeated. He hugged Daniel hard, and then sat up, not looking at him, and began gathering his gear so that they could go.

Very soon they were standing there again, before the Abydos gate, and Jack was watching Daniel light up the chevrons.

"Try to stay behind me, and look sharp," Jack reminded him. Daniel was looking at the symbols under his hands, intent, brow knitted. "We don't know exactly what we're walking in to, okay?"

"I got it," Daniel said. He looked up, and Jack tore his gaze away from Daniel, and the wormhole formed with a wash and a splash and a weird rushing sound. "I don't think I've said thank you, you know? For coming back to help me."

"Don't thank me yet," Jack said, grim, and he clutched his pistol in his right hand and walked into the shimmering nothingness.

****

_"Oh, God, no, no,"_ Jack thought, but his feet were carrying him forward, forward, into the tent, and his hand was coming up and the Beretta was aiming itself, years of training, no thought required. He remembered seeing a weapon like that on Ra's hand, before, and this time it hadn't flung the victim across the room, but had put Daniel on his knees, resisting, wavering, hands flailing, clutching at nothing, his gun useless on the rug next to him. Jack really didn't hear the reports of his pistol, though they must have been loud in the enclosed space -- one, two, three, the last bullets in his clip after taking out the Jaffa outside. The stain on the golden dress was sudden and familiar. She? It? and Daniel fell together to the sand-strewn rugs. Jack lowered his gun and came closer, went to his knees beside them. The goa'uld's eyes flared once, and then the light died. Daniel put out a trembling hand and touched her shoulder.

Jack could just hear Sha're's last whisper. His fingers at her neck caught her final pulse.

****

Colonel Jack O'Neill, USAF, retired, probably about to be the disgraced and court martialed and indefinitely imprisoned former colonel, stood blinking and half frozen on the ramp of the ugly concrete bunker, as the event horizon whispered and vanished behind him. He was mildly surprised. He'd thrown his cap and sunglasses through from the other side, and waited for a count of thirty, then stepped on through. He'd lain even odds that he himself would never emerge and never know why, so he was vaguely pleased, he supposed, to still be alive.

He looked around, and realized that the frost of his journey was melting on his cheeks, and that a gaggle of SFs had rifles pointed at him, so he raised his hands.

There was a stir at the back of the crowd. A man pushed his way through; Jack recognized him. It was the late and unlamented Major Samuels. Probably, he assumed, still licking West's boots. Good to know some things never changed. Jack looked around. Not a civilian in sight. Not a blonde female head, either.

"So. It's you," Samuels said, coming to stand before him, arms folded, glaring.

"Miss me?" Jack said, sweetly, hands still up.

"Where is Daniel Jackson?"

"I don't know," Jack said, and he didn't even have to arrange his expression to hide a lie, though he was very, very good at that when necessary. He, in point of fact, did not know where Daniel Jackson was. Daniel, solemn, had said he was going back to Abydos to bury his wife, and while Jack had no reason to doubt that statement, Abydos was, after all, a big planet and Jack did not know Daniel's location on it. That was perfectly true. And further, if you wanted to be scrupulously exact, Jack actually did not know if Daniel was still on Abydos. Daniel could be anywhere by now. Jack had watched him punch the symbols for Abydos into the gate-controlling device, and had watched him look back, once, before he stepped through the shimmering liquid wall, his eyes as lifeless as the burden he carried. But there Jack's knowledge ended. Right this minute, Jack did not know, nor did he expect to ever know again, the exact whereabouts of Daniel Jackson, Ph.D.

Samuels stared at him. Jack stared back.

"Search him. Then put him in with her," Samuels said. "Maybe they'll say something we can use. I'll inform General West." Jack shook his head. He waited patiently while the guys patted him down, took his guns and his knives and his ammo.

Then two of the SFs took him by the elbows, gently, but with nothing showing on their faces, and led him down a concrete hall, past a familiar series of doors, up an elevator and down another hall. They unlocked a little sparsely furnished room that was really a cell.

Samantha Carter stood up from the table where she'd been sitting, and took a step toward him. The SFs let go of his arms. He heard the door close. He put his hands in his pockets. He felt gritty and tired. Very tired, all of a sudden.

"You came back," Dr. Carter said, and her voice was dull and dark.

"Oh, you know," Jack said, not meeting her eyes. "Home is where the heart is."

****

_"Maybe you wonder where you are  
I don't care  
Here is where time is on our side  
Take you there, take you there."_

end.


End file.
